A New Twist
by BlackFox12
Summary: About two and a half centuries ago, Connor MacLeod was seduced by a newly created Immortal who then disappeared as things were getting serious. Set just after Tessa's death in season two, an Immortal has come to take Duncan's head. Contains spanking
1. Chapter One

**A New Twist**

**Chapter One**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from the television series/films Highlander and I'm not making any money from this fic

**Summary:** About two and a half centuries ago, Connor MacLeod was seduced by a newly created Immortal who then disappeared as things were getting serious. Set just after Tessa's death in season two, an Immortal has come to take Duncan's head – who can't quite bring himself to care

**Warning(s):** Spanking; spoilers up to and including the episode The Darkness of season two of Highlander; some mentions of violence; spoilers for the first Highlander film; implied sex

**Author's Note:** I intended to make this one part, but it ended up being quite long, so I'm going to be writing it as two parts

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><p><em>About 1730<em>

Connor set down his half-drunk tankard of ale as he looked up, sensing the presence of another Immortal. There were bawdy songs going on all around him and as he focused on the woman who'd just entered the tavern, he took in the dark hooded cloak she was wearing. It was enough to hide her identity, but there was nothing she could have done to hide what she was.

Connor drained the rest of the tankard and set it down once more as he stood up, pushing his way through the crowds of men. He seized the woman's arm as he passed her, pulling her back towards the door and then turning to face her. "This is no place for a lady."

"Who says I'm a lady?" Her voice was smooth and, despite being little more than a whisper, there was a slight accent that gave every word a lilt.

Connor slid his hand down her arm to lace his fingers through hers. He used that grip to raise her hand to the light, although he didn't need to see it to know what it was like. "Your skin is soft. No calluses. You've not worked a day in your life." He raised the pale hand to his face, inhaling deeply while keeping his eyes open. "Lavender, if I'm not very much mistaken."

"And I thought a man who clearly frequents taverns far more than he should wouldn't know how to recognise a lady."

"We change with the times." Connor opened the door and stepped outside into the cool night air, feeling it blow over his skin. He turned to the woman. "You should be more careful."

"Why? The only way I can die is if I have my head cut off."

"Which is far more likely than you seem to think." Connor abruptly let go of her hand, drawing his sword and turning in one swift motion, bringing the blade up against her throat. He took in her complete stillness – the way she hadn't even flinched back as he'd brought the blade up. "You're either very brave or very stupid... or you want to die."

"You won't kill me."

"You don't know me." Connor pulled his sword away from her throat, replacing it under his coat. "What do you want?"

"My teacher spoke quite highly of you. He told me that, if anything happened to him, I should seek you out and ask you to take over my training." The woman paused and then continued, "You're a very hard man to find, Connor MacLeod."

"There are times I don't want to be found." Connor considered it. He could walk away from her easily and leave her to the next Immortal who came by, even if he didn't take her head himself. It would be one less student whose death he would eventually have to mourn. Over the years he'd been alive, he'd seen countless Immortals he considered friends killed by the ones who let the darkness rule them – including his own teacher. But still... "Who taught you?" he asked out loud.

"Arthur."

A warrior from far back in England's history, Arthur's origins were clouded in mystery and so many tales surrounded him, it was nearly impossible to distinguish reality from fantasy. Connor had met him a few times and had a great deal of respect for the older Immortal. "Who took his head?"

"I wasn't there when he was killed," the woman replied. "I was buying food. By the time I got back, it was over and he was... gone." She took a deep breath. "I think I know who killed him, but without seeing the person, there's no way to be sure."

Duncan was better at taking on the new Immortals than he was, Connor reflected. He mostly only taught those he had a personal connection to, which was why he and Duncan had grown so close. Still, if Arthur had told his pupil to come and find him, Connor would be remiss if he turned her away. And there was always the possibility that she was lying and that she'd been the one who'd killed Arthur. The only way he would know for sure was by getting to know her. "I'll do it," he said out loud.

"You'll teach me?"

Connor turned to face her full on. "Come and find me tomorrow morning, at dawn. I'll be outside the town. Don't be late," he added, turning away.

The presence of the other Immortal faded as the woman walked away. Connor waited until all sense of her presence had faded and then walked back into the tavern.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Connor stood on the hill outside the town while it was still dark. One good thing about being Immortal was that it didn't matter how much beer he drank. He didn't need to worry about getting a headache the next day, so he was now bright and alert – and more than halfway convinced that the woman wasn't going to come.<p>

But then he felt it. The familiar sense that warned him of an approaching Immortal. He turned to face the town and saw her approaching. She was still wearing the hooded cloak, but he recognised the way she walked and as she came closer, the wind carried the familiar scent of lavender to him.

He was going to have to warn her about that. Or perhaps not. After all, taking away her scent wasn't going to give her any added protection against fellow Immortals – and since her hood made it impossible for him to see her face, it was her scent that told him who she was. Besides, he had to admit that the smell itself was lovely. It wasn't strong enough to engulf his senses, but was enough to tease and tantalise, making him intrigued to see more of the woman who brushed against his senses.

"I notice you don't seem any worse for having been drinking so much last night," the woman commented as she stopped in front of Connor.

"One of the many advantages of being Immortal," Connor conceded. He drew his sword. "I am Connor MacLeod of the clan MacLeod. If you want to learn from me, then draw your sword and state your name." He dropped into a fighting stance.

"I am Adelaide," the woman replied, her fingers grasping the hilt of her own sword and drawing it in one smooth motion. "I thank you for agreeing to take on the mantle of teaching me."

Connor wondered at the way the woman spoke, as if she was a lady. That wasn't something he found nearly as concerning as the fact that she was still wearing her cloak. "You'll move better if you take off your cloak."

"Is that an order?"

"More like an observation." Connor moved, slicing his sword at Adelaide, who took a step back, lifting her own sword to block his blade. The sound of metal against metal rang out, making Connor glad that he'd chosen outside the town to use as a training ground. After he'd died the first time, using swords hadn't been an unusual sight. Now, though, the sounds of sword fighting would draw far too much attention from the wrong kind of people.

"I like my cloak." As she spoke, Adelaide took a step back. "It means people don't know who I am. It might give me an advantage later on."

"You won't even show the man you asked to be your teacher? You expect me to train you, but you don't trust me enough to reveal what you look like?"

"Should I trust you?" Adelaide returned. "After all, in the end, there'll be only one of our kind left. Sooner or later, one – or both of us – is going to be dead. I'd rather take any advantages I can get." As she spoke, she struck out at him with her sword.

Connor batted her blade aside easily, stepped within the range of her swing and grasped her shoulder. He spun her round and struck her on the backside with the flat of his blade. "You're over-reaching with your strikes. Don't. You'll end up off-balance and become an easy target." He spun her back to face him. "Try again."

"You hit me," Adelaide said slowly.

"Direct consequences of a mistake. In a real battle, a mistake will get you killed. I could stab you each time you make a mistake, but waiting for you to revive again will add more time to our training session – not to mention making you bleed all over your clothes and on the ground. Besides, the flat of a blade doubles as a good deterrent."

"I suppose that makes sense..."

"Try again," Connor suggested.

* * *

><p>By the time the training session was completed, Connor was breathing hard and he'd just delivered three solid whacks to Adelaide's backside, making her cry out at the final stroke. He stepped round so that she could see him, even if he couldn't see her face. "I think that's enough for today."<p>

"I can go on longer..." Adelaide said quickly. "I can do better."

"When you start making more mistakes, it means it's time to stop." Connor placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently, then slid his sword back into place at his belt under his coat. "Don't try to do too much at once. Making mistakes doesn't mean I'm going to stop training you. I have more patience than that." He chuckled softly and then changed the subject. "I would imagine you already have a place to sleep, but it'll be far easier for me to train you if you stay with me."

"Are you trying to disparage my reputation, Connor MacLeod?" The humour in Adelaide's voice made it quite clear she wasn't serious.

"Would you like me to?"

"I'll let you know." Adelaide put her own sword away. "Lead me to your home, then."

* * *

><p>Connor woke up as he heard someone coming into his room, the familiar sense of an Immortal accompanying the sound. One hand reached for his sword, while the other reached to light the lamp next to his bed.<p>

"Leave it," Adelaide whispered as she approached slowly, taking a seat on the edge of Connor's bed.

Connor let go of the hilt of his sword and sat up slowly. He could tell that Adelaide wasn't wearing her cloak, but it was so dark, he couldn't make out anything other than the faint outline of her form. Still, he couldn't see the familiar glint that would be caused by the blade of a sword. "You're supposed to be sleeping," he said quietly. "We have an early start tomorrow."

"I'm sure you'll make me pay for the mistakes I make." Adelaide leaned in closer to him, her familiar scent teasing him. She placed one hand on his shoulder, her soft touch all but burning into his skin. "Do you want me to leave?"

Connor reached out and found his fingers brushing against soft hair. He let his hand travel down, discovering that her hair fell in silken waves down to her waist. He slowly stroked across, palm resting on her stomach while his thumb absently caressed her skin through her nightgown. "I'm not a gentleman."

"And I'm not a lady. Not anymore." Adelaide leaned in close, her hair brushing over his bare skin, as she gently kissed him on the lips.

Connor's hand slid round to Adelaide's back, pushing her closer to him as he sat up even further and deepened the kiss. His other hand took hold of her chin, cupping the side of her face. He kissed her harder, feeling her yield under him – and then he pulled her down onto the bed with him, rolling over so that he was on top, hand travelling down over her nightgown.

* * *

><p>Connor was used to fighting on very little sleep, but he quickly realised that Adelaide wasn't, particularly after she made several mistakes in a row. In the end, he put up his sword, stepping back just as Adelaide stumbled from over-reaching. He caught her arm when she would have fallen and brought her closer to him. "Enough for today."<p>

Adelaide let out her breath in a sigh of frustration. "I feel like I haven't learned anything."

"You're tired. I would say that seducing your instructor wasn't the best of ideas."

"You didn't resist." It sounded like she was smiling.

"I'm not in the habit of turning away a woman who seeks my attention." Connor slid his hand down her arm, removing her sword from her unresisting hand. He opened the folds of her cloak and tucked the sword back through her belt. "The next time, however, we'll be sleeping as well."

"Oh? Does that mean there will be a next time?"

By way of answer, Connor let his hand slide up her arm, over her shoulder and to her hood. Adelaide tensed as his fingers grasped the edge of the hood, but didn't pull away. As he pushed it back, though, he closed his eyes. He didn't need to see her face. He knew her body well enough by touch after the previous night.

Connor kissed her and felt her lean into his arms.

* * *

><p><em>Three weeks later<em>

When Connor woke up, the first thing he noticed was the absence of warmth next to him. He opened his eyes and frowned slightly when he realised that there was no sign of Adelaide. Normally, by the time morning came, she was back in her cloak, but still lying next to him.

There'd been enough time for them to develop a specific way of doing things. Connor didn't immediately worry, though. The training had been getting better and he was certain that, by now, Adelaide would be able to hold her own in a real fight against an Immortal.

Maybe she'd gone out early to train some more.

Deciding not to worry, Connor took his time getting dressed before he left the house.

* * *

><p><em>Present day<em>

The pain from Tessa's death was still raw inside Duncan as he stood by the window, staring out onto the street. It didn't matter how many centuries he lived. He could get to a thousand years old, but he suspected it would never get any easier to lose someone. He was relieved that Richie had come back to life, of course, but he couldn't stop thinking about Tessa.

He'd been so close to proving her wrong. He'd loved Tessa; wanted to marry her. Perhaps asking her had been triggered by meeting the fortune teller and making him remember being told that he would love many women but marry none, but his question had been prompted by his feelings for Tessa as much as those memories.

Duncan was sure that Richie probably thought he was keeping everything inside and acting like he didn't care. He did, but all he could think was that he couldn't let himself break down. If he thought about Tessa too much, he'd start grieving. And grieving would be the first step in letting Tessa go – and he wasn't sure he wanted to start doing that yet.

There was the sudden, abrupt sense of an Immortal outside. Duncan hesitated, but grabbed his sword. No matter the situation, he wasn't going to run from a fight. Perhaps it was a stupid idea to meet whoever was coming face-on, but he knew it wasn't Richie or Connor. He'd rather meet a potential threat with his sword in hand – especially now.

Duncan walked over to the door and opened it to reveal a slender woman with dark auburn hair standing outside. She was wielding a slender sword, delicately curved that looked like one hard strike would snap it in two. Duncan knew better than to underestimate an Immortal or the sword she wielded, though, and focused his eyes on the woman in front of him. "I am Duncan MacLeod of the clan MacLeod. Are you here to challenge me?"

"I am Amy Meadows," the woman replied. "And, yes, I am here to challenge you." She took a step forward, slashing down with her sword.

Duncan stepped back, swinging his sword up to block the strike. Although their swords clashed together hard, Amy's sword remained intact. Duncan took a step backwards and Amy advanced on him. He ducked round to the side, but although his new position opened up her side to a strike, he hesitated a split second too long and she spun round, slashing out at him with her sword.

Duncan circled round behind her, raising his sword. As he did so, he felt the buzz of another Immortal not too far behind him. He turned round and Amy slipped between his body and the wall, darting away and out of view as Connor turned the corner. Duncan glanced back to see that she'd disappeared entirely and then turned back to face his kinsman. "What are you doing here?"

Connor stopped, a brief look of surprise passing across his face, though it quickly faded into the expressionless mask he often wore. "I heard about Tessa."

"Are you here to offer condolences, or to say you told me so?"

Connor narrowed his eyes a little, but simply gestured towards the open door of Duncan's apartment. "Shall we go inside? You still have your sword out. You don't want to draw any unwanted attention to yourself." When Duncan didn't move, he gestured again, a little more forcefully this time. "We're not having this conversation out on the street."

Duncan gave some serious thought to refusing, but something in Connor's face warned him off. He slowly walked into the apartment, putting his sword away as he entered with Connor close behind him. "Did you see the other Immortal?"

"I sensed another Immortal, but they'd gone by the time I got to you," Connor replied, closing the door behind him. "Is that why you had your sword out?"

"She challenged me," Duncan explained. "Amy Meadows. I don't suppose you've heard of her?"

Connor shook his head. "You could try asking your Watcher friend," he suggested.

"But why did she run off when you approached?" Duncan mused, thinking out loud. "She'd know you wouldn't attempt to interfere in the fight. Maybe it's something personal to do with you." Although that theory didn't work, either. He'd stated his name – unless she intended to get to Connor by taking his head. It wouldn't be the first time someone attempted to get to an Immortal by killing someone he or she cared about. In fact, that had been why Tessa had ended up dead...

Pain stabbed through Duncan and he struggled to push the thoughts of Tessa away. When he turned to look at Connor, he could tell that he hadn't fooled the other man at all – but he was determined not to show any weakness in front of Connor. "Why are you here?"

"I can't visit you, Duncan? Like I said... I heard about Tessa. I thought you might need someone to talk to."

"Well, I don't." Duncan knew he was being rude, but right now, he couldn't bring himself to care. It was far easier to get angry than to let himself properly grieve. "You might as well go back to your shop."

Connor's eyes narrowed and he stepped closer to Duncan. "Watch your mouth, lad. Or have you forgotten how I dealt with you when I first came to you?"

Duncan remembered all too well what Connor had done during their first few weeks together, when he'd been stubborn and refused to listen to him. He'd felt the flat of Connor's blade against his bare backside innumerable times. But it was different now. He was older; not to mention a lot bigger than Connor. If it came down to it, Connor wouldn't be able to get near him.

Connor eyed Duncan, clearly waiting for a response. When Duncan didn't say anything, he spoke. "I'll go and see what there is in the kitchen. You should eat something."

"I don't need you to take care of me," Duncan muttered.

If Connor heard Duncan, he gave no sign of it as he disappeared into the kitchen. Duncan watched the kitchen door for a few moments, feeling sort of lost and wondering if he was ever going to get to the point where he would feel able to take control of his life again. With a long sigh, he stepped over to the nearest chair and sat down, only lifting his head when he heard Connor's footsteps approaching once more – though he had no idea of how much time had passed.

"Here. Eat this. You need to keep your strength up." Connor thrust a plate of pasta under Duncan's nose.

Duncan idly thought about refusing to eat, or even taking the plate from Connor and throwing it to the ground like a bad-tempered child, but he decided against it. For one, he could imagine exactly how Connor would react – and he didn't want to anger the other man any more than he already had. With a sigh, he reached for the plate and spoon Connor offered him and began eating.

Connor sat down in a chair opposite Duncan and studied him as he ate. Duncan swallowed and frowned at Connor. "You know, I'm not going to throw it away if you take your eyes off me for one moment."

"And why should I believe that?" Connor asked quietly. "You've barely listened to me since I got here. All I can see is that you're torturing yourself over not being able to save her – and you're not even allowing yourself to grieve. I know how hard it is to lose someone, believe me. But if you're going to let your grief overwhelm you like this, I will do something about it."

Duncan swallowed, feeling his mouth suddenly dry. He didn't like the way Connor was looking at him but, all too soon, he'd finished the food. When Connor silently took the plate and spoon from him and took them to the kitchen, Duncan considered leaving and postponing whatever his kinsman had in mind. But there was no use in trying to flee. Connor would only come after him – and then whatever he planned would be much worse, since he would have only succeeded in ticking Connor off even more.

When Connor returned to the room, he didn't sit down and just stood in front of Duncan, towering over him in a way he couldn't when they were both standing. "You need to let go of your grief."

"I'm not a child, Connor. I can handle this myself."

"The same way you're doing now?" Connor shook his head. "I wonder... if I hadn't come when I did, would you have even put up a proper fight against this Immortal who was after your head? Or would you have allowed her to kill you?"

Duncan opened his mouth to deny the accusation; to insist that he could handle the grief on his own. But looking into Connor's eyes, the words died in his throat. He'd always found it difficult to lie to Connor – and it looked like he hadn't got any better at it over the centuries.

"That's what I thought." Connor reached for Duncan's wrist, wrapping his fingers around it and pulling up to drag Duncan to his feet.

Duncan knew that he should have pulled away, but he found himself submitting to his teacher as he had done so many years ago. When Connor used his grip on Duncan's wrist to pull him over to the couch, Duncan knew instinctively what his kinsman intended to do, but he stayed silent as Connor seated himself and then set to work unfastening his jeans.

"Don't..." Duncan started.

Ignoring his protest, Connor pulled Duncan's jeans down to his ankles, following those with his boxers. He then pulled Duncan round to his side, using his grip on the other's wrist to pull down across his lap, settling him there.

The first hard slap to his naked buttocks made Duncan jump. His breath hissed out as the second swat landed hard, but Connor didn't give him a chance to catch his breath as his hand descended again and again, each smack igniting a fire that made Duncan's legs jerk.

Duncan had no idea how long he lay across Connor's lap with Connor's hand descending again and again on his bare backside. His whole world shrank to the heat being delivered to his backside. His eyes began to blur, but he struggled to hold back the tears. He didn't want to let go.

"Duncan. I know it hurts," Connor said calmly from above him. "You will have no peace unless you allow yourself to properly grieve." As he spoke, his hand hit harder and faster, paying particular attention to Duncan's sit spots and the tops of his thighs.

More tears slipped out of Duncan's eyes and he began to wriggle and squirm across Connor's lap, frantic not to be forced to give in to the pain. He couldn't let himself grieve, because he was frightened he wouldn't be able to stop; that every time he closed his eyes, all he would see was Tessa's face.

There was a pause and then Duncan stiffened a little as he heard the familiar sound of leather being pulled free. He couldn't help the cry that escaped his lips as Connor's belt landed hard right across the centre of his buttocks.

The awful leather cracked down hard several times, each strike making Duncan cry out. It wasn't until the tenth strike that the dam finally burst, making the tears fall hard and fast as he sobbed, allowing himself to finally grieve for Tessa's death.

Apparently, that had been what Connor was waiting for, because he stopped the awful spanking and just let Duncan lie across his lap as he sobbed hard, rubbing his back gently. Once again, time seemed to stop for Duncan and he had no idea how long he cried out his grief for – but when his tears finally began to die away, he realised slowly that his backside no longer ached. Clearly, enough time had passed to allow him to heal fully.

Connor helped Duncan stand and placed a hand on Duncan's shoulder, squeezing gently. "Feel better?"

"More like glad for our fast healing." Duncan replaced his boxers and jeans, the tightness in his chest having faded with the tears. He looked up at Connor once he was done. "Thank you."

Connor simply nodded. Then, he sighed. "So what are you going to do about this Immortal that's after your head?"


	2. Chapter Two

**A New Twist**

**Chapter Two**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from the television series/films Highlander and I'm not making any money from this fic

**Summary:** About two and a half centuries ago, Connor MacLeod was seduced by a newly created Immortal who then disappeared as things were getting serious. Set just after Tessa's death in season two, an Immortal has come to take Duncan's head – who can't quite bring himself to care

**Warning(s):** Spanking; spoilers up to and including the episode The Darkness of season two of Highlander; some mentions of violence; spoilers for the first Highlander film; implied sex

**Author's Note:** This is the second part. And... I'm not quite sure how the spanking scene ended up being written like this. It was the characters' faults, honest!

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><p>"She's after my head," Duncan replied with a slight shrug. "What else can I do but take hers?"<p>

"A good question would be _why_ she's after you," Connor replied. "Have you killed another Immortal recently who might have had a significant other who's after your head?"

Duncan snorted softly. "Not in a while. I've been too busy with the watchers and... well, you know." He knew he didn't have to bother explaining about the watchers to Connor. It might have been a while since they'd seen each other, but Duncan had made sure to contact his friend when the rogue watchers had started killing other Immortals.

Connor leaned back against the sofa and tilted his head up to look at the ceiling, a thoughtful look passing across his face. Finally, he spoke. "Right before I heard about Tessa, I was tracking an Immortal who's been killing many of our kind... humans, too."

Since the pain from the spanking was already fading, Duncan sat down next to Connor with barely a wince. "Do you know who it is?"

There was a long pause and when Connor spoke, it was quite cautiously. "I don't know for sure who it is."

"But you have some idea?"

"The Immortal avoids showing his or her face," Connor explained. "The few times I've caught sight of him or her, they're either wearing a hood or some kind of mask." He hesitated before continuing, "I've only met one other Immortal who was that reluctant to show her face. I trained her about two and a half centuries ago."

"You think she's behind this?"

Connor shrugged. "I only knew her for about three weeks. At the moment, I think it's a more likely explanation than any other."

"Do you need my help?"

"I lost her when I came here. I'm more concerned with you right now, Duncan. Losing someone you love isn't a pain you can just deal with in a few minutes. We need to deal with this woman after your head. Actually, I'll deal with her."

"She challenged me," Duncan protested.

"And then ran away," Connor replied. "That means all bets are off."

Duncan snorted softly. "Since when did you start using the slang of this time?"

"It's all about fitting in." Connor smiled, but it faded quickly. "You have any idea where another Immortal might end up? I don't particularly want to traipse all around the city looking for this woman."

"I have no idea. But I'm sure she'll be back." Duncan's mouth stretched open in a wide yawn.

Connor looked down at Duncan and shook his head, a faintly amused look playing across his face. "Sleep, Duncan," he said quietly. "I'll keep watch."

Duncan intended to argue – he really did. Unfortunately, being Immortal didn't mean he was immune to human sensations like hunger or tiredness. Besides, he was as safe with his kinsman as he could be anywhere. He knew Connor would keep watch and make sure nothing happened to him.

Without attempting to argue any more, Duncan leaned his head against Connor's shoulder and closed his eyes, allowing sleep to overtake him.

* * *

><p>It had been a long time since Duncan had slept leaning against him like this.<p>

Connor could remember the last time – when the tribe Duncan had been living with had been slaughtered. They'd stood and watched the funeral pyres together and then, later, Duncan had left him once more. They spent too little time together now – but Connor was aware of the mantra every Immortal lived by. That there could be only one.

It was hard to form attachments with the knowledge that, in the end, one of them would have to die.

Connor leaned his head back once more and sighed. He hadn't admitted to Duncan how responsible he felt if it _was_ Adelaide committing the murders. After all, he'd trained her... taught her... taken her to his bed. He should have stuck with his refusal to train anyone not directly connected to him. As it stood, he would be compelled to take her head.

It was a situation he'd rather not be in at all.

Duncan shifted slightly in his sleep and Connor looked down at his kinsman as he slid down so that he was stretched out on the couch, eyes still tightly shut. Connor lightly patted Duncan's head and then slowly stood up. He wasn't really intending to leave, but he felt the need to pace up and down; to move. He was feeling the same kind of restlessness he had been ever since the murders had begun.

He was getting too old for this.

* * *

><p>It was several hours later when Duncan finally began to stir. Connor moved to his side as his kinsman opened his eyes and looked down at him. "How are you feeling?"<p>

"Better." Duncan sat up slowly and sighed. "I'm not feeling too good about this challenger, though. I prefer not to take a woman's head."

"I hope you don't have any silly ideas of not fighting her," Connor said sternly as he took a seat next to Duncan. "Chivalry doesn't have much of a place in our lives – and you need to plan for when she'll come after you next..." His voice trailed off as he heard the familiar buzz of an Immortal and he stood up, going towards the door with Duncan only a step or two behind him.

When they got to the door, Connor paused and allowed Duncan to move in front of him to open the door, sword in hand. Connor didn't draw his own sword, but he stood a little behind his kinsman, ready to act if needed.

The Immortal standing outside the door was a woman with long curly black hair and pale skin. She was a little shorter than Duncan and although there was a sword tucked into her belt, she didn't have a weapon in hand.

"That's not the one who challenged me," Duncan said quietly to Connor.

"My name's Morgana," the woman said. She looked between the two of them. "Which one of you is Connor MacLeod?"

"That's me." Connor stepped forward.

"You're a hard man to track down, Connor MacLeod." Morgana stepped forward, but didn't actually enter the shop. "I apologise for coming to you like this, but I discovered you've been tracking down the member of our kind who's become a murderer. I thought I'd contact you and perhaps have an exchange of information."

Connor chuckled dryly. "What makes you think I'd be willing to join forces with you?"

"She was the last pupil of Arthur Pendragon – my foster brother," Morgana replied. "I have reason to believe she took his head before she came to you for training... or so she claimed. After she left you, she faded from history for a time before revealing herself in the killing spree."

"Are you sure it's her?" Duncan asked before Connor could speak.

Morgana focused on Duncan, her expression not changing. "I've been alive for a long time. Only one Immortal I've ever heard of has kept her face hidden. She believes that keeping her face covered will protect her." She shrugged. "Really, though, it just makes her stand out."

"So why are you after her?" Connor asked. "I'm sure it's not out of some sense of bringing her to justice."

"You're right," Morgana agreed. "I don't care very much for mortals. In my opinion, they can't live up to our kind. But I want the sword she stole from my brother. And if getting it means the murders will stop? Well, that way, we all win."

Connor exchanged glances with Duncan, who shrugged. "Material gain might not be the noblest reason, but at least she's honest."

Connor turned back to Morgana. "Whichever one of us fights her, the other two can't interfere. What gain do you have by coming to us?"

"If I find her first, I'll deliver her to you to take her head," Morgana said bluntly. "All I ask is that I get her sword."

"What's so special about the sword?" Duncan asked.

"It's the sword known as Excalibur," Morgana replied. "It belonged to my brother – but the Immortal Adelaide wields it now and she shouldn't. I need it back." She took a few steps back. "I'll give you some time to think it over. I don't have a phone where I'm staying, but I can drop by tomorrow and you can let me know what you've decided." Not waiting for a reply, she took a few steps back and then turned and started walking away.

Duncan waited a moment or two and then closed the door before turning to Connor. "What do you think?"

"I think I don't trust her," Connor replied bluntly. "This is all about a sword? I'd believe her more if she wanted revenge for her brother being killed. Not that she strikes me as the family type," he added. "But still, Excalibur is one of those swords they wrote entire legends about. I can't think of many people who haven't heard the stories." He didn't say the other thing – that Adelaide had never been a killer when they'd been together. He would have known if she'd taken a head already.

Or perhaps it was just he was reluctant to believe he'd been so wrong about her.

Duncan nodded slowly, but a faint smile touched the edges of his lips. "I guess this proves how jaded we've become, huh, Connor? No longer fooled by a pretty face."

Connor felt an answering smile tug at the corners of his mouth. It was good to see Duncan like this again. Loss never got easier to deal with over time, but once the grieving process started, a person started along the path to healing.

"What do you think about going out to eat?" Duncan asked. "I'm hungrier than I have been in a while."

Another good sign. Connor chuckled and clapped Duncan on the shoulder. "Of course. But you're paying."

"How did I know that was going to come up?" Duncan shook his head and then stopped, glancing towards the door.

Connor looked as well, sensing the presence of an Immortal. "Looks like today's the day for visitors." He flung open the door and looked at the auburn-haired woman standing outside, then glanced back over his shoulder at Duncan. "Is this her?"

Duncan stepped forward, looked at Connor and nodded. "Yeah. That's the one. Amy."

"Well, Amy." Connor turned back to the female Immortal, a smirk crossing his face. "I know you were coming after my kinsman, but you ran away. So if you want to get to Duncan, you're going to have to go through me first."

"I don't care which one of you I fight," Amy replied.

"So it's not a personal vendetta, then?" Connor stepped back, allowing Amy to enter the hall. As he stepped past her to close the door, his nostrils flared and he took a passing glance at the sword in her belt.

"Connor, don't you think you should find another battlefield?" Duncan asked.

Connor locked the door and turned round to face Duncan. "That would be necessary – if there was going to be any fighting."

"There's not going to be?" Duncan raised his eyebrows.

"No." Connor looked at the female Immortal. "That was a neat trick. How long ago did you stop wearing the cloak and hood? Smart move, that. Who would connect you to the cloaked and hooded Immortal from two centuries ago?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Connor's hand snaked out and he grabbed one of her hands. "Still the soft skin of a lady. It's what comes of becoming an Immortal before you've done any hard work, I suppose. Your hands didn't have a chance to get calluses on them." Just as he had the first day of their meeting, he raised her hand to his nose. "Lavender. I smelled it the moment I passed you." Still keeping a hold of her wrist, he looked over towards Duncan. "The Immortal Amy doesn't exist. This is Adelaide."

Almost immediately, Adelaide began trying to pull her hand free of Connor's. He kept a tight hold of her hand, smiling at her struggles. "Do you think you've come far enough to beat me?"

"You're challenging her to a contest?" Duncan asked.

"Why not?" Connor looked at him. "Used to do that with you all the time, remember? Last time, you came close to beating me." He chuckled softly. "No student is ever too old to learn from their teacher – even if those lessons have to be taught the hard way." He looked down at Adelaide. "So, what do you say?"

"I can't beat you and you know it," Adelaide replied sulkily.

Connor pulled her closer to him and put his mouth next to her ear. "That's not what I've been hearing."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Morgana. Sister of your old teacher," Connor replied. "She told us you killed your teacher. Which means you deceived me. You know, as well as running out on me." He felt the humour fade from his voice. "I think I'm owed an explanation. An apology, too."

Adelaide looked up at him, a stubborn set to her jaw. "I have nothing to say to you."

"And after we spent those three weeks together?" Connor shook his head and looked steadily at Adelaide. "One way or another, I'm getting an explanation. We can do this the easy way or the hard way."

When Adelaide said nothing, Duncan spoke up. "You want me to take off for a while?"

Connor looked at his kinsman. "I'm sure you can just disappear to your room for a while."

Adelaide pulled her hand free and made a break for the door. Connor caught her easily with an arm around her waist, pulling her back towards him as she fought and scratched at his arms. "Got a little wildcat here," he commented to Duncan as he half-carried her over to the couch and sat down. "Guess we're doing this the hard way." He dumped her across his lap.

Adelaide let out a squeal and immediately started trying to push herself up.

"You need anything before I head to my room?" Duncan asked.

Connor started to say no, but then thought better of it. "Yeah. Toss me your hairbrush."

"No!" Adelaide began struggling across his lap.

"You ready to talk?" Connor demanded.

Adelaide went silent.

Connor looped his arm around Adelaide's waist and looked at Duncan. "Grab me the brush."

"Sure. Here you go." Duncan grabbed the brush and tossed it in Connor's direction, before heading in the direction of his room. "Let me know when you're done."

Connor caught the brush and smacked it down on Adelaide's trouser seat. She squealed like a cat and tried to lever herself up – but when Connor landed the brush again, she collapsed over his knees. "Stop it!"

"You can make it stop any time," Connor said slowly, punctuating each word with a smack from the brush. "Be thankful you're not in a good position for me to use my sword." He fell silent and just continued landing the brush over and over again.

Adelaide lay over Connor's lap, unmoving save for a slight twitch each time the brush fell. Finally realising he wasn't getting much out of her this way, Connor lay the brush to one side and took hold of the waistband of her trousers. He eased them down easily, ignoring the struggles, and followed those with her panties, revealing a backside that was already blushing pink from the smacks he'd landed.

Connor didn't waste any time now. He used the brush to good effect, bouncing the flat back off first one cheek and then the other. Under the punishing blows, Adelaide's backside quickly began to darken – and he heard her soft cries and gasps of pain. He shifted her over his knees a little, pushing her forward to expose her sit spots, and then began aiming most of the blows there.

After a couple of minutes of that, Adelaide finally cried out, "Wait!"

Connor stopped mid-swing and slowly brought the brush down to rest on her back. "Are you ready to talk now?"

"...Let me up first?"

"I don't think so. I want easy access in case you lose your tongue again."

"What do you want to know?"

"Let's start with a nice easy one," Connor said. "I've been tracking a murderer of Immortals and mortals alike, an Immortal wearing a hooded cloak. Was it you?"

"No – but whoever it was has been stalking me; trying to draw me out."

"Because of the sword?"

"When Arthur was killed, he'd hidden his sword," Adelaide admitted. "When I returned to his house, the sword called to me." She let out her breath in a sigh. "Sometimes, a sword chooses the one who will wield it. That's what happened with Excalibur. Arthur was the first person who wielded it. I don't know why it chose me – but because it did, I've had nothing but trouble."

"You're refusing to accept the sword," Connor observed. "Until you fully wield the sword – let it become a part of you – you'll never reach your full potential as a fighter." He put the brush to one side and slowly lifted Adelaide up off his lap. "Morgana, Arthur's sister, is the one who's after you. I'm guessing she's the one who was committing the murders. Perhaps she feels that if she takes your head, ownership of Excalibur will pass on to her."

"I can't face her," Adelaide said quietly. "I had the same thought, but I thought I could pass it on to Duncan MacLeod. That the sword would accept him as well."

"You ran away before you completed your training." Connor looked at her. "Why did you run?"

"It was... too intense," Adelaide admitted. "I was young and frightened. I know I seduced you, but I think I went a bit too far too fast. I was disturbed by how I was feeling for you." She shrugged. "So I took the coward's way out and ran."

"I see."

Adelaide looked at him. "I'm sorry."

"I wasn't planning on whacking an apology out of you."

"I know." Adelaide leaned her head back to look up at the ceiling. "But..." She hesitated. "Maybe you should. Well, not the apology part – but you can carry on, I guess. If you..." She hesitated. "I don't know... do you think I could try again? I'm not gonna run this time..."

Connor thought about it and then, very slowly, leaned forward and touched his lips to Adelaide's. Her eyes fluttered closed as they kissed, but he kept his open, exploring the feelings going through him and considering, weighing the pros and cons. He then pulled back slowly, looking into Adelaide's eyes. "I'll accept your apology and give you a second chance... after this next spanking."

Adelaide nodded slowly and didn't fight as Connor pulled her back over his lap. Since she hadn't pulled up her panties or trousers, he simply grabbed the hairbrush and started landing it straight away.

Connor didn't bother saying anything this time. He just let the brush hit Adelaide's backside over and over, going far longer than the previous spanking had been. Adelaide twitched with each hard blow and then started gasping and crying out. Still, Connor paddled her until he could feel the heat radiating off her backside and Adelaide was sobbing hard.

Adelaide's backside was a bright red by the time Connor was finished and gathered her into his arms, holding her in a gentle embrace. He settled back on the couch and held her on his lap, looking directly at her. "So tomorrow, we'll get started with your training."

"What are we doing today?"

Connor smiled. "I think we can figure something out." He leaned in and kissed her again, much harder this time. Then, he pulled her down onto the couch with him.

**The End**


End file.
